I want to give up. No, that's not entirely true. I just don't want to be alive. I'm too tired of being alive.
The panic doesn't leave me alone. The trauma doesn't leave me alone.
There's a thunder and lightning storm coming through town again and I can't breathe.
The last few days have been utter horrors.
My mom was diagnosed with cancer.
The man who raped me posted on social media about the b**** who ruined his life, using the nickname that he used for me (nightingale) over and over, leaving no room for doubt that it was me he was talking about.
I continue to sabotage friendships... I fear that I've ruined so many of them beyond repair. That may just be the panic talking though.
At night when I'm alone, I can't help but think that it would have been better if that man had left me dead rather than beaten and broken internally and externally. I feel hopeless.